Adventures of Zatoichi

Eternal blinds visual damnation slowly effectively giving rise, to hypermultivariability indefinitely attuned to cosmic reckoning. 

The simple desire for innocent pleasures modestly driving the ambitions of many, the humble accumulation of bread and cheese a moderate treasure for the wise self-sacrificing. 

Zatoichi's skill and formidable awareness accompany his thrifty modest travels, as village titans and bucolic corruption seek his lonely isolated bearing. 

So many feuds, town after town disputatiously confronting overt avarice, as unhinged exaggerated individual aggrandizement seeks the infinite with imperial zeal. 

The ironic cost of so much enrichment the disdainful envy of the ambitious, as tidal forces ebb and flow throughout the civilized ornate chaos. 

Amidst the stately modern delineations of robust power and cultural durability, Zatoichi still honours nature and his surrounding environment with honest faith.

And as the world diabolically considers its destructive fate the peaceful chant, having already accepted ontological eccentricity as a playful chiding lifelong friend. 

Imagine Zatoichi & the Trump Administration how much fun could be had with that?, as millions and millions are robbed and cheated the impeccable swordsperson no doubt riled. 

Familiarity, it seasons a politician and makes them much more easy to trust, the beloved sight of a familiar face like electoral gold in political contexts. 

That's why I figured Kamala Harris wouldn't win last time around, she wasn't familiar and although she easily made the best candidate, she had next to no time to win the American consciousness, making it easy for Trump to win. 

Bernie's still around however and if I'm not mistaken he resides within, that very deep and trusting American consciousness, he's been around for so many years.

Go with an unknown or Bernie or Kamala I have to admit that even though he's old, I would wager Bernie's familiarity is the most endearing within the United States (he's like the anti-Trump). 

Strange how one country could be so ideologically opposed to itself.

While constantly promoting its national interests. 

With resolute defiance. 

And airtight indefatigability. 

Excelsior

Obsessed with grades a curious squad introspectively comports themselves inquisitively, compulsively attuned to meticulous vibrations shrewdly endowed with austere form. 

Studiously aligned to exacting rhythms they reflexively defy comatose expediency, and proactively consume everything they can instructively regarding knowledgeable life. 

Intricate methodologies furthermore facilitate domestic tasks and fruitful expenditures, as elaborate meals exhaustively enable vast culinary insights into grand gustation. 

Public transit indeed suffices as automobiles require monthly payments, and work conflicts with reading and study as esoteric guidelines promote seclusion. 

They note the habits of other people as peculiarly generating otherworldly impulses, which seem to have less novel interest and lack the allure of imaginative exhibition. 

Until one day they're voluminously tasked with audaciously attending a music festival. 

At which they encounter points of view.

Randomly delivered with disengaged artistry. 

It's fascinating to watch as exoteric alternatives creatively emerge with dynamic flair, and democratic evaluations of discursive thought begin to outmanoeuvre hierarchical remonstrations. 

Instead of vitriolically delineating opposing viewpoints as distasteful, the raw newfound classifications deconstruct traditional liturgies. 

As they listen to conversations which don't have a point and aren't competitive, the resulting nonsensical energetic whimsy magically encourages inclusive insights. 

I liked how the utilitarian exposure led to less venomous codes of conduct, and the accidental immersion in illogic subterraneanly diversified stilted constructs. 

It reminded me of my youth in the country when I hung out with people who had no use for school, and I used to love listening to their odd discussions which were so very different from life at university (they called me dainty). 

They were like unique unconcerned orchestrations naturally overflowing with authentic life, people who actually cared about people, instead of just writing books about how that's a great idea. 

Cool flick. 

Amarcord

As winds of change passionately breathe throughout the Italian countryside, and tectonic ships coast through the night, poetic reflections and familial festivities emancipate a repressed human factor whose vivacious spirit refuses to yield. Energetic youthful explorations generate blossoming warm and friendly observations whose flowering imaginings revitalize local traditions.

There are stories to be told as the seasons change and life challenges a predetermined institutional categorization. Playful scenes rich in vivid detail, capturing mischievous movements and inquisitive motivations, flourish.

Refusing to be tied down by the stereotypical attitudes condescendingly applied to their professions by a disdainful elitist few, hard working people continue to create and theorize within a stifling draconian body politic.

They inhabit a colourful filmscape full of inclusive change, verdant and robust, supporting the marginalized and the downtrodden, beyond the reach of any imperial entanglements, nurturing, caring and looking after one another, freely sharing their nourishing information.

And they dream and evaluate, consider and wonder. Hypothesize, romanticize, familiarize, thunder. Knowing that really nothing else can be done, if one wants to live fully cloaked in the sun.

The vignettes in Federico Fellini's Amarcord synergize a wrinkle in time, refusing to let autocratic realities structure their lives if their lives want nothing to do with autocratic realities.